


Blood on the Linen

by alexme7_7



Series: Street Vigilante AU [2]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Gen, Injury, Vigilantism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-01 22:47:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11496351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexme7_7/pseuds/alexme7_7
Summary: Jeremy and Michael get in over their heads and have to call in backup.





	Blood on the Linen

**Author's Note:**

> From a street vigilante au I recently started building upon.

Jeremy and Michael stumbled out of the alley as fast as they could manage, leaving disaster in their wake. Five men, all in various states of incapacitation or unconsciousness. Their weapons thrown in to the nearest dumpster in the hopes of delaying anyone stupid enough to go after the two.

Or at least most of their weapons. Michael wasn’t going to apologize as he staggered away with one of their knives buried in his thigh. He felt like he had earned that keepsake and wasn’t exactly planning on pulling it out quite yet.

They staggered down the street, their hoods up, walking as quickly as they could manage. Neither of them said anything, they both knew how bad it was. They just had to make it home.

Michael could hear Jeremy’s ragged breathing. Jeremy noticed Michael’s busted lip. Neither said anything, they just kept moving.

Until, one misplaced step and Jeremy was headed straight to the ground. At the last moment, Michael caught him, biting his tongue at the sudden movement and heavy weight. Jeremy’s head lolled for a moment and Michael’s heart nearly stopped.

“Jere,” He whispered, slapping the boy’s face lightly, “Two blocks to go, babe.”

“Mmmph,” Jeremy moaned, but Michael could feel some of the weight lifting off him. Jeremy blinked sleepily at Michael before moving his feet forward without a word.

Good enough, Michael thought, gritting his teeth, half supporting Jeremy as they walked the rest of the way to the apartment. He tried his best to ignore the slick blood coating his hand, unsure of who it belonged to.

Opening the door with Jeremy’s dead weight on him gave him a moment to consider his options. The first option, the stupid idea, Michael’s go-to idea, would be to patch them up himself. Something ingrained in him from years in unforgiving households and some desperate time on the street. 

But the moment Michael flung the door open, confronted by an apartment that wouldn’t have been possible without the people he had found along the way, he was reminded of his second option. 

He let Jeremy fall gracelessly onto their bed before sinking to his knees, grabbing at the cellphone on their side table, and called Jake. 

Jake wouldn’t be much help in the long run, but he lived above them and could get them the help he needed. He felt himself fading, but pressed the dial button.

“Sup?” Jake’s groggy voice answered after a few rings.

“Call Chloe, tell her to bring her things,” Michael ground out, hanging up and huffing out a breath as he tried to sit himself up against the bed.

“Michael?” Jeremy’s small voice floated down to him.

“I’m here, Jere. I’m not going anywhere.”

* * *

 

Jake was out of bed before he heard the dial tone on Michael’s end. He called Chloe as he was leaving his apartment. And was saying bye to Rich when he made it to their door. 

He steeled himself for a moment. He’d seen them fucked up before, but Michael had sounded bad. He sounded almost desperate, something he never heard in Michael. Absently, he realized he was only in boxers. More importantly, he had forgotten their spare key. Frantically, he tried their door. 

It opened without a hitch, setting Jake on edge immediately. The boys always locked their door. Checked it twice. A religious habit.

He let it swing wide open, into the pitch black. A quick fumble for the light switch and he was blinking back at the sudden brightness in the entryway. But before he could find his bearings, there was an arm at his throat and a knife in his face.

“Michael?”

The man stood in front of him, wavering, but staring him down dangerously.

“Dude, put the knife down, it’s Jake.”

Michael blinked and cocked his head, not backing down.

“Where’s Jeremy?” He tried, looking over Michael’s head into the shadowy apartment.

Michael lunged quickly, pressing Jake into the door behind him, the knife even closer, “Stay the fuck away from him,” He hissed, his hand shaking. Michael was sweating, wavering more than before, and when he threw an anxious glance behind him, Jake took his chance.

He quickly smacked the knife away and as gently as he could, he pushed Michael back. The man stumbled easily, falling backwards onto the floor with a huff.

“I’m here to help,” Jake said gently, switching on the light for the rest of the room, “Shit.”

Jeremy was sprawled across the bed, as bruised and bloodied as Michael, seemingly unconscious.

“Shit, shit, shit…” Jake muttered, feeling for a pulse.

“Don’t hurt ‘m,” Michael murmured from the floor, trying to drag himself closer, “Don’t.”

A pulse,  _finally_.

“I’m not going to hurt him…” He trailed off, eyes moving to Michael’s leg, “What the fuck is wrong with you guys?” He blurted, moving quickly to find something to stem the free-flowing wound in Michael’s leg.

Chloe couldn’t come soon enough.

* * *

 

Chloe couldn’t help it. The moment she walked into the apartment, she laughed out loud. Jeremy was spread eagle on the bed, legs dangling, Michael was almost unconscious on the ground, glaring at Jake, who was pressing what appeared to be his own underwear into Michael’s leg, leaving him stark naked.

“Brooke would kill me if I used the throw pillow. This was the next best thing,” Jake said by way of greeting, not looking up.

“Fair,” Chloe allowed, putting her bag down beside a fading Michael. Her calm made Jake breathe easier and he backed away, letting her take over.

“Bullet wound?”

“Knife. I’m pretty sure he pulled it out of his own leg before he jumped me,” Jake winced, “That’s not one of theirs,” He nodded to the bloody knife laying in the entryway.

“Resourceful,” Chloe deadpanned, pulling supplies out of her bag, ‘Go check to make sure Jeremy still has a pulse, try to wake him up, and then for god’s sake, put some clothes on. I don’t think it’s sanitary.”

“You got it, Doc,” Jake stood and made his way beside the unconscious man, “His pulse is still there,” He confirmed, shifting to slap lightly at Jeremy’s face.

“Don’t touch him,” Michael mumbled, eyelids fluttering.

“Michael, it’s Chloe and Jake,” She said softly, pulling down Michael’s pants to deal with the first wound, “I’m here to make sure you don’t die. So, stay fucking still, okay?”

“Kay.”

“Yo, dude. Jeremy. Wake up, man.”

Jeremy moaned quietly, letting his head loll to the side.

“Jeremy, come on.”

Jeremy’s arm comes up quicker than Jake can dodge it, an errant flying limb, managing to catch Jake in the chin.

“No,” He mumbled back, eyes squeezing close as he let out a hiss.

“I tried,” Jake said, rubbing at his chin before going to search for something that would fit him. 

* * *

 

A low whistle startled Chloe and Jake from where they knelt, hovered above Michael.

“Are they...?’

“They’ll be fine,” Chloe sighed, not looking up from her work with a needle and thread.

Rich moved inside, gently shutting the door behind him. Chloe’s supplies are sprawled out on the floor, making him weave his way over to Jake’s side.

“Where’s Jere-bear?”

Jake gestured vaguely towards the center of the room, handing Chloe a pair of scissors, but Rich could easily spot a Jeremy-shaped lump in the center of the bed.

“He looks pretty dead, guys.”

Chloe sighed, rubbing at her face with her forearm, “He has a concussion, and a stab wound to the hand and shoulder, maybe some cracked ribs, the rest of it is just superficial.

“Brooke is gonna kill him for getting blood on the sheets…”

Chloe hummed, “Probably.”

Silence fell over the three, only broken by Chloe softly asking Jake for supplies to be passed.

“I texted the girls,” Rich says quietly, shifting slightly on the floor, “They probably won’t see the messages until the morning though.”  
  


“Nothing much they could do anyways,” Jake shrugs.

“It’s better they don’t see them like this anyways,” Chloe murmurs.

“Yeah,” Rich agrees, suddenly standing, “Who wants coffee?”

* * *

“He’s waking up,”

Rich was seated next to Jeremy on the bed, watching Chloe and Jake put the finishing touches on Michael’s many bandages when Jeremy begins to stir. Blood no longer dripped from his shoulder or hand, but his cheek had turned a dark red, a stark contrast to his ghostly pale face. He hadn’t even seen Jeremy’s ribs yet, but he could imagine that they were similarly coloured and hurt like a bitch.

“Agh,” Jeremy tensed, trying to roll away from the sudden pain coming back to him.

Jake moved to sit on the other side of Jeremy moments before the young man’s eyes shot open and he tried to move himself backwards, away from the two surrounding him.

“Gah!” Jeremy screamed the moment he moved too sharply, his arms going out from underneath him, sending him back into the bed with a whimper.

“Jeremy, hey,” Jake tried, putting a hand out towards him.

Jeremy paused for a moment, blinking up at the two spinning faces looking down at him.

“Jake?” He croaked finally.

“Sup dude?” Jake smiled down, breathing out a sigh of relief.

“Rich?”

“You know it.”

Jeremy’s eyes sprung open, “Michael?”

“He’s fine- “

Before Rich could finish his sentence, Jeremy was struggling to sit up. Fighting against nausea, dizziness and the pain in his chest, he propped himself up to look around the room.

“Keep him still!” Chloe called, “I still don’t know what the hell is up with his ribs. If he gets a punctured lung, that’s on you.”

“Michael!”

“Trying, Chlo,” Jake said, placing a hand lightly on Jeremy’s shoulder as the boy squirmed slightly, letting out pained noises.

Chloe looked up from Michael, “He’s going to be fine, Jeremy.”

“Okay,” Jeremy panted, wavering a bit. He let Jake and Rich guide him back down to lay on the bed, the ceiling swimming in circles above him, the movements continuing when he pressed his eyes shut, “Okay.”

The moment he felt Rich and Jake let go, however, Jeremy was on the move. A deep breath held and he stood up as fast as possible. The world around him tilted and he feel to his knees, landing him at Michael’s feet. The pain in his chest only increased, but he leaned forward despite it. Hands were at his back and shoulders again, but he fought against them, despite the searing pain in his right shoulder.

“Jeremy, you’re going to hurt yourself.”

The hands pulled him back easily, and spots danced in front of his eyes. He keeled over, only making his upper body scream in protest. Before he could make another sound, Jeremy was going limp in Jake’s arms.

* * *

“We brought Mickey Dee’s!” Jenna’s voice filled the room as she burst in, only to be shushed by an exhausted-looking Jake and Rich.

“And Starbs!” Brooke chimed, ignoring the boys and moving past Jenna.

“Oh no,” Whispered Christine, frozen in the doorway.

In the newly sun-coated apartment the damage done was much more noticeable. Christine’s eyes first landed on Rich and Jake, the two boys with bags under their eyes, streaked with blood. The floor around them covered as well. Jenna bolted to the bathroom before Christine could even move her eyes past the two.

“They bled on the linen,” Brooke muttered, setting her two trays down on the nearest table, her face pale, “Of course the idiots bled on the linen.”

Christine’s gaze quickly jerked towards the offending linen. However, her attention was caught by the bed’s three occupants. She moved slowly into the room, silently handing off her McDonalds bags to Rich and Jake as she drifted closer.

Jeremy was shirtless, exposing the disturbing bruise that covered most of his torso and a large cloth bandage covering his shoulder, just beginning to spot with blood. A cut and bruised cheekbone graced his pale face.

Michael lay beside him, stripped down to his boxers. The garish green bruise covering half of his nose and swollen eye caught Christine’s attention first, a little bit of dried blood underneath the man’s nose. Two large bandages covered Michael’s thigh and hip.

And the person next to them lay face down, covered in more blood than both boys combined. Christine could have mistaken her for a corpse, if it wasn’t for the small snore that escaped the body. Chloe, Christine quickly realized.

“She spent a few hours fixing them up,” Jake whispered, suddenly at her shoulder, “And then she just passed out on the bed.”

“They’re still alive, right?” Jenna’s shaky voice came from the bathroom.

“We would have definitely mentioned something about them dying before you guys came over,” Rich responded, starting to open the fast food bag.

“Thank god.”

“At least the throw pillow survived,” Brooke sighed, slumping back into the chair, bringing the pillow to her chest.

* * *

 “Ah god! Fuck!”

“He lives!”

“Fuck off,” Michael hissed, blinking against the harsh sunlight streaming in.

“Any dizziness or nausea?” Chloe’s voice came from somewhere on his right.

“Let him wake up first,” Brooke defended on his left.

“We saved you some hash browns,” Rich’s voice yelled from another room.

“Jeremy...” He muttered flinging a hand out to his right. He hit a body and desperately groped, only to have his hand pushed off.

“Wrong way, Michael,” Chloe said.

“Help me sit up, please.”

Someone, Jake, grabbed his hand and gently pulled him up, Michael biting back swears as he became vertical.

Jeremy was just to his left, curled into his side, looking about as bad as Michael felt.

“How bad?”

“Honestly,” Chloe began, sitting back in the bed, “Not as bad as you. He’s just got a concussion that he’s going to need to sleep off. A few stab wounds, nothing major.”

Michael let his eyes close and nodded, “And me?”

“Knife to your arm, stomach, and leg, and a broken nose, if you couldn’t already tell.”

“Great-”

“Oh, and you threatened Jake with the knife you pulled out of your leg, last night.”

“Chloe!” Jake hissed.

“What?”

Michael winced, rubbing at the back of his neck, “Sorry, man.”

“It’s cool. No offence, but you weren’t much of a threat last night.”

“Thanks, Chloe.” Michael says, catching her eye with a grateful nod.

“Happy to help,” Chloe yawned, taking a sip from a coffee cup.

Sighing, Michael gently ran a hand through Jeremy’s hair before moving his gaze around the room.

The small room was filled up by all their best friends, people that Michael had come to think of as family. He smiled kindly at them all, hoping to convey his gratitude.

“Did you guys bring coffee?”

* * *

The warm spray of the shower felt amazing on Michael’s bruised skin, and he could feel himself melt into the spray. He had spent the past five minutes selfishly standing under the hot water, soaking in the heat. His friends had gone home soon after he had woken up, only after Michael had promised to call Chloe if anything got worse and swore that he would leave Jeremy’s side to take a shower and change his clothes. 

Ten minutes away from Sleeping Beauty wouldn’t be that long, he had hoped. Michael was just finishing reapplying his bandages when he heard a clatter and thump, throwing him off the tub’s edge and into a towel in seconds.

“Jeremy?” Michael called, walking out of the bathroom, “Jeremy?”

Jeremy was no longer where he left him, in a ball in the middle of their bed. Michael was about to yell again, when-

“Michael?” Jeremy’s voice croaked from the other side of the bed.

Michael shuffled around, to find Jeremy on his side, on the ground beside the bed.

“Michael!”

“Jere, what are you doing?”

“I didn’t know where you were,” Jeremy began, sheepishly, “I kinda panicked. Fuck, that hurt.”

“Sorry I left. I was in the shower.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I just… was worried.”

“Well I’m here now,” Michael said, letting his towel drop in favour of helping Jeremy up as gently as possible.

“Thank you,” Jeremy murmured, as he gently let himself fall back into bed, “Stay?”

“Of course,” Michael said, laying down carefully next to Jeremy, “Chloe patched us up last night. Everyone left a bit ago.”

Jeremy hummed, “I thought so. Are you okay?”

“I am now. You?”

“Your face looks like someone took a baseball bat to it,” Jeremy snorted.

“Fuck off. You don’t look much better.”

“I’m okay now that I know you’re okay,” Jeremy sighed.

“You’re cute,” Michael murmured, taking Jeremy’s hand in his, “I’m so fucking glad you’re okay, too.”

Silence filled the room. A comfortable one, backed by the car-filled street beneath them, and the water pipes above them. Michael traced circles into the back of Jeremy’s hand, smiling lightly at the ceiling.

“It could have been way worse last night,” Jeremy finally said, “We were lucky,” He shifted slightly, trying to face Michael despite the twinge of protest from his body. Michael was still staring up at the ceiling, a small frown on his face.

“We fucked up,” Michael agreed, “But we didn’t know they had backup, dude.”

“Still…” Jeremy sighed, pushing closer to Michael with a small groan, “I was scared,” He finished quietly.

“Jere… I was scared too. You passed out on me.”

“You literally had a knife in your leg!”

“I got us a free knife!”

“Michael,” Jeremy said, hitting him in the shoulder, “I’m being serious. We could have died.”

“We could die every night,” Michael said quietly.

Jeremy paused for a moment, taking Michael’s hand again, “Yeah…”

Michael turned his head towards Jeremy, “Hey, if you don’t want to do this anymore, or want to take a break, or-“

“No, Mike,” Jeremy interrupted quickly, “It’s- It’s not that. I don’t want to stop. I’m just… glad we’re okay. I’m glad you’re okay.”

Michael took a moment to look Jeremy in the eye, at the battered, bruised, perfect man lying beside him, and gave him a small smile.  

“Okay,”

“Okay,” Jeremy agreed.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you thought in a comment, or hit me up on tumblr at slaygoldponyboy and ask me questions about this au.  
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
